Past Recount
by applechan53
Summary: Arthur wishes he could go back to the olden days, if only to escape Alfred, the source of all his problems. But when his wish is granted by mistake, what will happen to the two of them? Human names used. No pairings as of now, but definitely no yaoi or yuri. Not based on historical events, so please don't count this as a valid source for your history paper!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! I'm applechan53. This is may first EVER fanfiction, so I hope you like it. I don't own Hetalia- Hidekaz Himeruya does (thankfully!). I'm not sure how often I'll update this, since my schedule will be changing soon for summer break. But I'll try to do it whenever possible, so bear with me.**

**Oh, and by the way, this is just a family story. There may be some minor heterosexual pairings, but nothing huge. I just don't do yaoi and yuri.**

**Okay, I'm just babbling now. On to the story! \(^o^)/ **

* * *

It's a bright and beautiful morning, same as usual. The birds are chirping as they flit from tree to tree, a little white bunny hops happily through the woods, the colorful, shining fish flop in and out of a giant, winding river snaking around the house. The sky is a brilliant blue, with only a few white, puffy clouds dotting it. It seemed like the perfect day…

"Arthur!" a voice yells out, causing a flock of geese to fly up into the sky in a panic. "You came!"

"Well of course I came, you bloody idiot! You invited me; what kind of a gentleman would I be if I turned down an invitation without good reason?" England answered angrily.

"Yeah, yeah, no kind of gentleman at all. I get it, Artie. Just come in," Alfred says impatiently, having heard the spiel a million times before. His blue eyes glittered in the early morning light behind their gold-rimmed glasses, which complement his light brown hair well, even though it's highly unkempt by Arthur's standards, what with that little piece that always likes to stick up at the end.

"Well, I'll have you know that that 'spiel' is actually quite important; King George himself said it to me. Once," he admitted. His emerald green eyes sharp in contrast to his now-red cheeks.

Alfred rolls his eyes. "I swear you worship that guy too much."

Arthur's thick eyebrows come together under his blonde hair. "I do not! I give him due respect, nothing more. If anything, you lack a reverence for your leaders!"

"Yeah, okay," Alfred says, trying not to laugh. He's heard all this so many times; it's not worth it to get mad over something so small.

"So why'd you invite me all the way out here anyway?" England asks innocently.

Alfred stiffens. _Does he really not remember? _"No reason…" he says, trying to sound nonchalant and not hurt, like he really is. It's just, you'd think your own father would remember your birthday; the day you left him forever. _Do I really mean so little to him?_

"Oh… okay," Arthur says, not sure what else to say.

"I'll carry your stuff upstairs," Alfred says, taking the bags upstairs.

Arthur turns his head. What has Alfred so upset? It could be… no. Alfred wouldn't bring him out here for _that,_ would he? _It is his birthday, even if it's the day my heart died. _England thinks to himself morosely.

Alfred walks back downstairs, a fake-happy expression on his face. "Your room is ready. I made sure there's plenty of room, in case you want to practice your 'magic' or whatever it is you call that stuff."

Arthur blinks, unused to any level of consideration from his- former- son. "T-thank you," he stutters. "I'll make sure to find time to do that tonight."

They spend the day trying to get used to each other's company, which takes a while. Eventually they manage to remember how the other person works, adding new personality traits as they go. By nighttime, things could almost be called normal between them.

Almost.

"'Night," Alfred says, standing and yawning.

"_Good_ night," Arthur corrects.

"Ugh! You know I don't care about all that grammar stuff. As long as you understand me, it's cool," Alfred whines.

"_Grammar _is not _stuff_," Arthur objects, "a proper gentleman must know how to use proper grammar!"

"Well, maybe I don't want to be a proper gentleman!" Alfred cries.

"I don't believe that's how I raised you," Arthur says, raising his voice a little.

"_Raised _me? You were hardly ever there!" Alfred yells, then, realizing what he just said, covers his mouth.

Arthur's eyes go blank as he retreats into his shell. "I see…"

"Wait just a sec; I didn't mean that…" Alfred says.

"No, you're right. I suppose I didn't really _raise _you if I was never there. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go practice some magic now."

"Wait, please," Alfred pleads, but he knows it's no use.

"Good night," Arthur bows, then leaves.

Alfred buries his head in his hands. How was he ever supposed to make up for this?

* * *

When he reaches the guest bedroom, Arthur collapses onto the bed. Being alone forces him to think. Could it be true? If he was hardly ever there, did he count as a father? Did he have a right to miss his "son"?

_Maybe I should just end this. _England thinks to himself, reaching for his magic wand. But just as he's about to utter the words, he remembers something vital- he can't die.

With a groan, he falls back onto the soft down feather bed. _I wish I could go back to the old times. _He thinks, remembering how innocent he was, even though the time itself was awful for him. With that, he drifts off, never seeing the light envelop the house and carry it away.


	2. Chapter 2

"Arthur!" Alfred screams, bursting into his room. "I know you're mad at me, but something's wrong! The house isn't where it used to be any…more?" he looks, stunned, at the bed. Instead of Arthur, there appears to be a small boy, maybe four or five, clutching a wand, fast asleep. "A-Arthur?" he asks quietly, inching towards him.

The boy shudders a little, but doesn't wake up. Alfred pokes him, then pulls his finger away, as if he's afraid he might bite him. It's enough. The boys shoots out of bed and quickly aims his wand. Alfred puts his hands up in surrender, like he'd seen done in all the movies.

With a start, the nation realizes this child doesn't look angry, just scared. He whimpers slightly and widens his stance. "W-who are you?" he asks shakily. "How did I get here?" He's shivering horribly, and looks pale as death.

As he looks into the boys, green eyes, he realizes this must be Arthur. What happened to him. "I'm Alfred," he explains, trying to keep his voice soothing for the scared kid; not a small task for someone as boisterous as him. "I don't even know how _I _got here. Usually, my house is somewhere else entirely."

Little Arthur stares at Alfred, his gaze calculating as he tries to decide whether or not to trust the strange man in crazy clothes. Slowly, he lowers his wand. "Very well then. If you are as lost as you claim to be, then I suppose it is my duty as a gentleman to show you around until something jogs your memory. By the way, my name is Arthur."

Alfred nods, shaken to the core. _Did Arthur turn himself back into a kid? But why? And why did he move the house?_ No matter what happened, one thing was perfectly clear: he needed the boy to show him around. No sense in being hopelessly lost for days, possibly even months. Besides, Arthur's the only one who might be able to fix this.

"Are you coming?" the uptight child asks impatiently, crossing his chubby arms and tapping his foot.

Alfred looks over. "Yeah," he says, dazed. This is too much for even _him _to take in.

The strange pair walk outside, and Arthur immediately finds his way through the beautiful sun-lit trees to a small town. Even though the population couldn't be more than a thousand, it bustled with life and a joyful aura sprung out of every crevice. Alfred decides the first thing he wants to do, and asks, "Can we get a hamburger?"

Arthur looks back at him like he's crazy. "What's a hamburger?"

Alfred pales. How does this Arthur not know what a hamburger is? Are all his memories of him really gone. You know, a hamburger. Bread with meat in the middle. Tons of vegetables on top." He moves his hands in circles, asking, no, practically begging his (former) caretaker to remember. The boy shakes his head. "What about tea? Tell me you at least have tea!" he exclaims. At this point, he'd settle for anything familiar.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the little boy replies, and Alfred pales. There's no tea here? When has Arthur ever gone _anywhere _without tea?

As the nation thinks about it, he realizes something. Where is this small town anyway? There aren't any commodities here; some houses are simple Tudor homes, while others are nothing more than sticks and mud! Is it possible… that Arthur sent them back in time?

His tour guide stiffens up all at once, causing Alfred to focus on him instead of this new revelation. "What? What's wrong?" he asks.

"Hide!" Arthur whispers sharply, bucking behind a barrel.

"Angleterre~!" a voice calls, heading quickly towards them. "Angleterre, where are you?"

Alfred has to stifle a giggle. No wonder the kid wanted to hide. Now that he knew who they were hiding _from, _he didn't want to be seen, either. Francis isn't exactly the_ best_ company to have, being the personification of France and all.

But apparently their hiding place wasn't good enough, because Francis finds them almost immediately. It's strange for Alfred to see him looking so young, but the difference between the two Arthurs is so much more that he doesn't really care. "Angleterre!" he yells happily, picking up the angry boy by the hood. "I thought we agreed to go wading today!"

"You agreed," the little country corrects, "Why would I want to go wading with such a complete-"

Francis cuts him off. "Oh, who's this?" he asks, looking at Alfred. "A new friend of yours?"

"No," the boy replies, getting even angrier, if that was even possible. "I _was_ showing him around, since he's lost, but then _you _showed up and the day has become a dark stain in my memory.

"That's harsh!"," he says, feigning a hurt expression. Then, turning to Alfred, "Well, I'm Francis. I'm sorry for my little brother's rude behavior. I haven't raised him to be like this, I swear."

Alfred's eyes widen. "Did you say… little brother?"

"Yes. Well, not technically. I'm just raising him for now."

"Shut up! I'm not your little brother! I'll never be _your_ little brother!" Arthur yells. Then, in what looks like a much practiced move, twists himself out of Francis' grip and hits the ground running.

Francis sighs, watching as he runs over, not too far, but definitely long out of earshot. "I really am sorry about him. But I hope you can be forgiving; he's had a rough time." He turns to Alfred. "He has brothers, you know. Real ones. But they all hate him with a passion unbeknownst to even me. If they got within a gun's firing distance of him, they'd shoot immediately and without hesitation. Even when they're far away in other places, each one takes the time to write a hate letter every day. It's actually gotten pretty pathetic by now to me, but to Arthur it still hurts; I can tell."

Alfred looks over at his caretaker-turned-child, whose back is turned away from them, and tears well up in his eyes. "So the task has fallen to you to take care of him?"

Francis scoffs. "It's not like I want to take care of him; we don't get along at all- I think he's a brat, he thinks I'm a tyrant- but I suppose I'm all he has."

Alfred just nods, tears choking his words. _Heroes don't cry. _he reminds himself, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. _I can trust this Francis. _he decides. "Um... I kind of need help with a big problem. It's actually pretty important." The blond turns his full attention towards him. "The thing is, I'm not exactly… from this time period.

Francis looks over at him, alarmed. "What?"

The country sighs. "I'm from the future. Well, unless this is 2013, which I highly doubt. I made the older version of Arthur upset yesterday, and he ended up bringing us back to his childhood; whether by mistake or on purpose I don't know."

Francis pauses, then nods. "That _is _a problem."

"You believe me?" Alfred asks, surprised. That wasn't at _all_ the reaction he was expecting.

"Of course, mon garçon, why wouldn't I? I know how that kid is. If the adult version is anything like him, then nothing is impossible."

"Thanks…" Alfred says, happy to have gained an ally, even if it _is _just Francis. "Oh, and by the way, I know you're France and he's England, so you don't have to hide it from me."

"R-Really?" Francis sputters. "Y-you know? Are you a country, too? Do you know the future me?"

Alfred nods. "Yeah. I'm a country, but I can't tell you which one, or it could greatly affect the future, which is awesome, by the way. For everyone. Well, mostly everyone…" he says, thinking of Gilbert, who lost his home back in the '40's. "But you're fine. So is he," he says, gesturing to Arthur, who's now sulking under an oak tree. "Oh, and if you need something to call me, Alfred's fine."

"Ah," Francis says. Well, I guess I'll call you that, then." He watches Arthur, who's pouting as if he actually just wants someone to talk to him. "We're going to have to tell him. But not now. He's too freaked out, and even if he wasn't, he rarely helps out anyone he isn't close to. You're a special case, with him showing you around and everything."

"I see…" Alfred answers. He pushes up off the ground easily and walks over to Arthur. "We should probably get going now."

"Just go hang out with your buddy Francis," he mutters, then runs angrily into the woods.

"Hey, wait!" Alfred yells, running after him. But all the strength in the world couldn't beat Little Arthur's running skills, and he's completely out of breathe far too soon.


	3. Chapter 3

The sky blackens all too quickly, and rain clouds pour in. Francis and Alfred had long since gone back to the latter's house, hoping Arthur would return, but the hours had passed without any sign of him. Francis actually ended up falling asleep on the sofa, exhausted from worry and the excitement of seeing all the futuristic commodities Alfred has.

Alfred's also very worried, and he knows that with Francis out of the picture, it's up to him to be the hero and rescue rescue his old caretaker. Still, maybe he should wait a while… just to see if he finds his way home.

But with the first crack of thunder, Alfred knows the time for waiting is over. He remembers Arthur telling him how scared of thunder he was as a kid, but saying that he got through it with his family. _Liar. _ He thinks, pulling on a jacket and running into the cold. _His family wouldn't help him through anything._ As an afterthought, he grabs a blanket. It's cold at night here, even though it's the middle of summer. Arthur must be freezing, wherever he is.

Within minutes of stepping out the front door, he's completely soaked. "Arthur!" he calls into the black night, wishing he had brought a flashlight to help him. "Arthur! Where are you?"

He searches everywhere: in stores, down alleyways, even asking people in their homes. After an hour, he realizes there's just one place he hasn't looked: the woods. "Dang it, you idiot!" he mutters, running toward the trees.

Inside the woods, it's much darker, and the trees, although fully leafed, provide almost no protection from the freezing rain. In a little miracle, the clouds open up, allowing the tiniest bit of moonlight to filter through. It's barely enough to see by, but it's still definitely better than running aimlessly in the night. "Arthur!" he yells, praying the light stays long enough for him to find the child.

Fifteen minutes later, Alfred is still searching for him. _These woods are so big! _ He thinks, having longs since gotten lost. Somehow, the moon's light is still there, so at least he can see.

But then, just barely audible over the pounding of the rain, is a small whimper. He turns toward the noise, desperately hoping it's what he thinks it is. Finally, curled up behind a giant oak, he finds him. "Arthur!" he yells.

The small boy looks up, tears in his eyes. "What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Well, I was going to take you home, but I got lost. Come here," Alfred says, bending down and holding out his arms wide.

The boy shivers, but doesn't move. He seems worried about something. "I won't hurt you." He says, taking out the blanket. Tempted by the promise of warmth and comfort, Arthur subconsciously moves toward him. At the last second before Arthur decides this is a bad idea and runs back, Alfred flings the blanket around the shivering boy and pulls him close.

"H-Hey," he protests weakly, but doesn't make any effort to move.

"Just sleep," Alfred says. In a flash, he remembers one of the modern Arthur's favorite songs. Somehow the words stuck with him all these years. Maybe the old version of Arthur will like it, too. He sings:

_Are you going to Scarborough Fair?_

_ Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme_

_ Remember me to one who lives there_

_ She once was a true love of mine._

Arthur's breathing has evened out, and he's snuggled in close to Alfred, who chuckles lightly. _I guess some things never change. _ Finally, the moon is obscured again as sleep claims him, too.

* * *

**Hey, sorry this one's kinda short, but it's cute. Okay, this is it. I probably should start thinking of a specific day to upload because I don't have a lot of time to write during the week, but until I do it's gonna be pretty sporadic. I hope that's okay? Please don't kill me.**

**Anyway, I didn't really write this with any sort of plan, so if anyone has any ideas... I'd be glad to hear them. But I have a rule: no yaoi, yuri, or swearing. Sorry!**

**Okay, well, thank you for sticking with the story so long, and I hope you'll keep reading to the end!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! This is applechan53! I think that for this story, I'll update on Tuesdays and Fridays normally (starting next week). But if I feel like I can do more or that it's too much, I'll alert you on any changes. Thanks for sticking with this so long!**

* * *

The next morning, Arthur and Alfred awaken to the sweet scent of French cooking wafting in from the kitchen. Even though the Frenchman is just making pancakes, it has a distinctly flair that only he could create.

Alfred sits down to a big pile of pancakes- almost as tall as the table he's sitting at- and immediately starts shoveling them down his throat. The other two stop to say grace before taking their first bites, but it doesn't matter. Alfred's finished by the time they're on their first one. "That was goooood," Alfred sighs contentedly, sitting back in his chair. "Kinda reminds me of Mat-" he cuts off, remembering who he's talking to. "It reminds me of someone else's pancakes."

The other two are too busy eating their _own _portions to care about his mistake. In a matter of fifteen minutes, they, too, are finished. "You're an idiot," Arthur says, "but you sure can cook."

Francis laughs. "You're a delinquent, but you sure can eat," he replies smoothly.

"Whatever. At least_ my_ country isn't _rebelling against me_," Arthur retorts.

"I told you, it's not against me, it's against that king, you-know-who!" Francis yells.

Alfred snorts into the glass of water he was drinking. "_You know who?_ As in _Voldemort?_"

They both look at him, confused. "Voldemort?"

Alfred shakes his head. "Never mind. It's nothing." He laughs again, earning him some weird looks, but no one pushes the issue further.

"Oh!" Arthur says, remembering something. "I was wondering, how did you get all these fancy things here. It's like magic! You even have water _in your house!_ Are you a sorcerer?"

"Uh…" Alfred says, deciding how to best respond. "Yes! I am a sorcerer. That's how I got all this cool stuff. What about you? Do you want to be one?" He thinks he knows the answer.

The child shudders. "No! Witches are awful! They should all be burned at the stake!" Alfred stares at him, shocked. The Arthur _he _knew would never say such a thing! Noticing the man's worried expression, the little Englishman amends, "But you're okay. I mean, you're not evil, right?"

Alfred shakes his head quickly. "Not me!"

The boy nods his head approvingly. "Then you can live."

"T-thanks?" Alfred asks, unsure of exactly how to respond to a child telling him he's earned the right to survive.

"Angleterre," Francis butts in, putting a hand on the little one's shoulder, "go get dressed. The adults need to talk."

"Don't boss me around!" Arthur yells, shrugging off Francis' hand.

"Seriously, dude. Just go," Alfred says. Arthur gives him a betrayed look, before walking dejectedly to his room, muttering something about how Alfred really _is_ evil.

Francis laughs lightly until the child is well out of earshot, then turns to Alfred. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Alfred leans back in his chair, putting his hands over his eyes. "Honestly, I wish I had." When he doesn't get a reply to his strange comment, he peeks over at Francis, who looks seriously confused. "The Arthur of the future is, like, a top-notch sorcerer. He claims to see these… flying mint bunnies and…brownies or whatever. I've never found any evidence, the whole think sounds like crazy talk to me, but… at least I know it's him." His voice gets quiet and cracks as he mutters the last part.

Francis puts a comforting hand on Alfred's shoulder. "That Arthur means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

He nods. "But this one does, too. It's a new side of him; one I've never gotten to see. I'm very surprised…" They both go quiet.

"You know," Alfred says, getting back up, "you guys… I think you actually get along pretty well. You just… hate each other while doing it."

Francis laughs. "You might be right about that. At least we talk to each other."

"Yeah…" Alfred says, remembering the time when he and Arthur wouldn't even do _that._ It was terrible for both of them, and eventually they had to stop. The American starts as he realizes he even misses _those_ times, where at least he could _see _Arthur as he knew him. "We have to get back soon, but I guess, while I'm here…" he chuckles at the punch line to a joke only he will understand, "I might as well feel his pain." Francis looks confused again, but says nothing.

oOo

"Hey, Arthur~" Alfred sings, walking into the boy's room. He flings open the curtains and lets in the light. "Time to get up!"

Little Arthur groans and rubs his eyes. "Whaddaya want, you idiot?" he asks. Alfred almost laughs. It's so weird to see his former caretaker without his "gentlemanly" manner.

"We're gonna go do something!" he yells, throwing a fist in the air.

"Why?" the child whines, reluctant to get out of bed.

"Because I said so," Alfred replies, as if that should be the obvious answer to everything.

"Hmph," Arthur grunts, turning over and putting a pillow over his head.

Alfred stares at him, then walks over and takes him right out of the bed by the arms, swinging him gently around to the floor. "Hey!" the boy yells, rubbing his now-bruised limbs. Maybe he wasn't as gentle as he thought.

"Time to go~" he sings, throwing the boy a shirt and pants that he wore during his childhood but never found time to get rid of. They were sitting in his storage room; he had to sift through tons of memories to dig them up. Even so, they look like a good fit, and to see his former father wearing his old clothes… priceless!

"What are these?" Arthur asks, holding up a white shirt, leather vest, and matching leather pants.

"Fashion," Alfred says simply. "Wear a cloak over them if you're one of those 'traditionalists.' But it'll look weird."

"Fine. I'll wear them. But you have to leave," Arthur relents, pulling his elder to the door by his pant legs. Said elder laughs and walks out easily by himself, shutting the door behind him.

Once outside, Alfred chuckles to himself. Operation: Give Arthur the Best Childhood Ever to Make Up for the One He Lost (Operation GABCEMUOHL) is a go!


	5. Chapter 5

_When we last left our dear hero, Alfred F. Jones, he was standing outside Arthur's door, waiting for the action to start. Headquarters had just informed him of his new mission: Operation: Give Arthur the Best Childhood Ever to Make Up for the One He Lost (Operation GABCEMUOHL). Unfortunately, our tragic hero has absolutely no idea what he's getting into. He will face constant trials, shopping trips to the kid's section, eating that awful British food, and plenty of other obstacles, but still he will persevere…_

Alfred continues to daydream his strange little dreams, and hardly notices when Arthur walks out of his bedroom, stares at the man for a good five seconds, and moves on his way. About a minute after he's gone, Alfred finally snaps to his senses and runs after the boy, who's on his way out the back door. "Wait! Wait!"

Arthur gives a small grunt and walks back through the door. "I was wondering when you'd show up. You forced me into these bloody horrible clothes, then just went off into your own little world. You'd better have a bloody AMAZING reason for all this, you git!"

Alfred laughs maniacally, "That I do, my young friend… we're going to give you a childhood!"

Arthur stares at the man like he's gone crazy, which, as he's learning, is the look most people probably give him on a daily basis. "Have you gone mad?"

Alfred shakes his head. "No. Until I have to go back, we are going to have the absolute BEST time ever. That's an order." He can see the child's hooked, so he waits for what he's sure will be a favorable response.

"You _are_ mad," says Arthur, shaking his head and walking away.

"Don't leave!" Alfred yells, his plan shattering around him. "You are going to come back here, you are going to have fun, and you are going to enjoy it!"

The boy stops and turns around. "You promise?" he asks meekly, surprising Alfred.

He nods solemnly and puts his hand over his heart, and raises the other one at a ninety degree angle. "I swear on my life."

"Fine… I guess it wouldn't hurt… to have a- a _little_ fun," Arthur agrees.

"Yeah! Let's go!" the elder yells, relieved his plan managed to work after all.

Unfortunately, the kid version of Arthur has much more energy than the adult version. Even Alfred is panting after being dragged around all day. "You sure are a… little ball of… energy… huh?" he asks between gasps for air.

"You're just an old man!" Arthur retorts happily, and Alfred would have doubled over in laughter, if he hadn't already been doubled over from exhaustion. He never thought he'd hear Arthur call _him _an old man.

"I… am not… old!" Alfred yells, running after the boy, lifting him up, and spinning him around. "I'm just easily tired."

Arthur can't help but laugh at being spun around so quickly. It's the first time Alfred's ever heard the sound, and it makes him smile. Now he understands a little why the older Arthur put up with _him_ for so many years; this kid is absolutely adorable!

The rest of the day is spent by the beach of a lake, playing and watching the sunset. Then, by the light of the moon, the two start along the path leading to the house. On the way there, though, Arthur starts dozing off, and is thankfully saved from falling flat on his face just in time by Alfred, who carries the boy home in his arms. He chuckles, "You really were a cute kid," he whispers, wrapping his coat around the now-shivering child.

* * *

The next day, both Alfred and Arthur sleep in until well past noon, exhausted from the previous day's adventures. When they do wake up, they decide to just sit and watch a movie on the "magic talking box," as Arthur likes to call it. Today, they watch _The Avengers,_ with Arthur under the impression that "America" is an alternate universe, of course. Even the proper little kid is screaming for justice by the end.

Alfred laughs at the little boy's enthusiasm. The Arthur _he_ knew would never even _think _of getting excited over a superhero movie. Little Arthur is just so carefree…

Without even realizing it, both boys fall asleep to the sound of Thor kicking Loki's butt. Arthur gets very cold in the middle of the night, and ends up crawling over to his new friend for warmth. When Alfred wakes up the next morning and sees the sleeping child, he smiles warmly and carries him to bed.

The next few days pass by just like this, with Arthur and Alfred playing until one of them (Arthur) gets too tired to play anymore and the other one (Alfred) has to carry him home. Unfortunately, the two are about to get a surprise visit from someone neither of them particularly want to see…

* * *

**It's so fluffy! XD**

**Hi! It's applechan53, the person who hates apples!**

**So first I'm going to tell you that getting two chapters of this done a week will kill me, so from now on Friday is my only updating day. Gomennasai.**  
** I'm so grateful for the internet right now, because it crashed TWICE while I was trying to get this uploaded. What makes it worse is I'm trying to write some historical-based fanfics right now, and need to research! Ugh!**

**Okay, so in history, we're watching this History Channel series called "America: The Story of Us". It's like a drama version of America's history, and I really like it. Any history/Hetalia fan would probably like it, too.**

**Thanks for reading this next chapter!**

**P.S. Make sure to watch the next episode of Hetalia: The Beautiful World! I love Fridays!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi! It's applechan53! So, I know I left the last chapter on a cliff hanger. I feel so evil! :D**

**GYAH! I looked back on the other chapters, and realized I forgot to say this: I do not own Hetalia. Please forgive me, Hidekaz Himeruya!**

**Well, anyway, I recently started watching dubbed Hetalia with my sister and one of my friends... the experience is completely different (I watched subbed before). That, and it's so awesome to see that they love it as much as I do! Also,**** I was looking up some H-word in a dictionary the other day, when I saw "Hong Kong" and was like, "I have to read this!" And it said that Hong Kong was a British colony. I, (slightly) being a fan of the history side of Hetalia, knew that wasn't true, and looked at the Copyright date: 1994. That explained it, since Hong Kong****_ was _****a British colony for about 150 years until 1997. My friends laughed at me when I pointed out the outdated information. I'm a teenage failure...**

**Also, I'm sorry this is being put up so late at night (kind of) since I was invited to a party today. Literally today. My friend told me about it in school and I ended up going to a waterpark! XD_  
_**

**Last non-important thing: did anyone else get _snow _today! It was SNOWING. In APRIL! I want to strangle somebody! **

**Well, here's the next chapter...**

* * *

A loud knock on the door wakes the two sleeping countries. Alfred, even though he's not good at waking up, is still better at it than little Arthur, who falls back asleep almost instantly. So, the task falls on him to get the door.

"Hello?" he asks groggily, eyes half open. Upon seeing the boy standing in the doorway, however, his eyes fly open, growing wider than usual. The teen has pale skin, fiery red hair that seems to stick up in tufts, and piercing green eyes.

"Have ya seen my brother anywhere?" he asks, looking angry.

"Um… who?" Alfred asks.

"Arthur's his name. You seen him or not?" the boy asks impatiently.

"Who're you?" Alfred asks.

"Name's Allistor. Allistor Kirkland. Now, have ya seen him or not?" Suddenly, Alfred remembers something Francis told him about Arthur:

_"He has brothers, you know. Real ones. But they all hate him with a passion unbeknownst to even me. If they got within a gun's firing distance of him, they'd shoot immediately and without hesitation. Even when they're far away in other places, each one takes the time to write a hate letter every day. It's actually gotten pretty pathetic by now to me, but to Arthur it still hurts; I can tell."_

Alfred looks at the, now extremely annoyed, boy sitting on his porch, and feels a sudden surge of anger. "He's not here," he lies, and tries to shut the door, but Allistor pushes it open again and walks inside.

"Hey, _li'l brother,_" Allistor says, making the words sound like an insult. Alfred turns to see a stricken-looking Arthur paralyzed with fear as his brother gives him a "friendly" punch in the arm.

"Hi, Allistor," Arthur mumbles, clutching his bruised arm.

"Wha'd I tell ya 'bout addressing me?" the red-haired boy asks threateningly.

"Sorry, onii-sama!" Arthur yells, snapping to attention like a terrified drill sergeant.

Alfred can no longer bear to watch. "Hey, you can't just march in here and start messing with him! State your business and get out."

Allistor looks at the man angrily, but decides it would be best not to argue. "I'm here to… uh…" He blushes and looks down, rubbing his foot on the floor. Alfred is shocked. The boy's bravado wore off in a second!. "Just never mind!" he yells, running out the door.

For a few seconds, Alfred stares out the door where Allistor had been just a little bit ago, then turns toward Arthur. With a start, he finds the child starting to cry. Reaching down, he picks him up and tries to comfort him. "Shhh, shhh, it's okay. He's gone now. It's gonna be okay," he whispers, rubbing the frightened boy's back and rocking him a little.

"Allistor represents Scotland," Arthur explains quietly into the larger country's ear, "He's always like that with me; all my brothers are. Actually, he was really nice today. He only hit me once."

Alfred feels his heart breaking. "Well I can't promise you'll never have to see him again, but I'll make sure nothing else happens while I'm here."

Arthur clutches Alfred's shirt tightly. His breathing gets softer and more even. "Thanks… onii-chan," he mumbles just before he drifts off. Alfred stops rocking the child in shock. _Did he just say…?_

Severely shaken by the comment, he puts Arthur to bed and tucks him in. There are still tears on the poor kid's face.

oOo

The next morning, Arthur seems to be in a slightly better mood. He sits at the table, eating his breakfast, with a little smile on his face. Of course, what kid could resist smiling at Fruit Loops? Especially since Alfred decides that chocolate milk was much better on cereal than white, and made sure to put a little extra in the suffering boy's bowl.

An even more important occurrence, however, is that the child has taken to calling Alfred "onii-chan". Every time he hears it, Alfred is filled with happiness, but is also a little sad, since he knows he doesn't deserve the title after what he said to _his _England.

Around 12, there's a knock on the door. Arthur stiffens up and starts shaking, but it turns out to be just Francis. "Hello," he says, walking in like he owns the place. "I came to check on Arthur. He is well, I presume?"

Alfred nods, shutting the door, "He's mostly fine, anyway. Got a little scared yesterday, but nothing I couldn't handle."

Francis snorts. "What could scare _that _one?"

"Well…" Alfred hesitates. What will Francis say about Allistor coming over? "His brother came to visit, and…"

The Frenchman's only expression is horror. "Which brother?" he asks worriedly.

"Allistor… he has more than one brother?" Alfred asks.

The question is ignored. "_Allistor _came here?" Francis yells, grabbing the taller country by the shoulders. "Why would that piece of trash show his face again after the horrible things he did! I swear I will murder him!"

Just then, there's another knock on the door, and the two freeze, turning to stare at it. Alfred slowly sidesteps around Francis and turns the doorknob. "What?" he asks.

"I wanna see my brother," a familiar voice demands. Speak of the devil.

"We don't wan' any," Alfred replies coldly, adopting the overused American term. The door gets slammed on the redhead's face.

Unfortunately, being a stubborn brat, Allistor continuously pounds on the door for another minute or two until Alfred abruptly opens it, sending the kid tumbling inside. "Why are you here?" he asks angrily through his teeth.

The boy looks honestly stumped at the question. "I, um, I…" he flushes red as one of Antonio's tomatoes. "I came to, uh… apologize," he mumbles, so quietly that the other two almost didn't hear. Francis, who was just about to throw his hands around the boy's throat from behind, stops and stares in shock.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi! It's applechan 53! So I was really bored this weekend, and that boredom led to you getting a chapter 5 days early! I'll probably be able to get another chapter done by Friday.**

**So I went to my local mall over the weekend, and got two new Hetalia bracelet thingys (the Flying Mint Bunny one and the "Make Pasta Not War" one), which brigns my total up to three (I also have the Prussia "I Am Awesome" one). Also, I got an America pin and a shirt with tons of Hetalia characters on it! XD I used my birthday money to pay for it all (since my birthday was April 9). I'm so happy!**

**Well... I have nothing else to say... enjoy the next chapter, and I should have something else up by Friday, with some ADORABLE stuff in it! :3**

* * *

"Um… what was that?" Francis asks, hardly believing his ears. This is _not _the Allistor he knows.

The teenager laughs. "Oh come on, I was just kidding… now let me see my brother!" He tries to push through Alfred, but the much larger country pushes him back.

"You are not allowed to see Arthur while I am in this house," Francis warns him, "There will be no correspondence, and no pranking. Any deviation from this will result in immediate expulsion from this country. I doubt you want to risk traveling off the end of the world?" The boy pales and shakes his head quickly.

Upon hearing that, Alfred wants to laugh, and just barely manages not to. He had completely forgotten people in this time period thought the world was flat! It's just so… primitive!

Allistor holds up his hands in defeat, pulling Alfred back to reality.. "Fine, fine. I'm leaving. Just tell him I want to see him."

"We will do nothing of the sort," Francis says, shoving the little nation out the door.

"Francis, Alfred, what's taking so lo-" Arthur asks, coming around the corner. His eyes widen when he sees his brother being pushed out the door.

"Oh no…" Alfred mumbles to himself. Then, more loudly, "Arthur, go back in the kitchen. We're almost done taking care of the pest."

"Excuse me, I am no pest!" Allistor cries indignantly as the door is slammed on his face. For a few minutes, the other three listen as he pounds on the door screaming bloody murder, before finally giving up.

The two elder countries turn to look at Arthur, and see he's starting to cry again. This time, Francis is the one to comfort the shaken child. "We'll keep that awful punk away from you, mon garçon," he whispers softly, picking him up. "He can't hurt you anymore."

The little boy clings to his caretaker's shirt. "Mm hmm… he agrees. Then, surprisingly, whispers, "You can be my onii-chan, too."

Francis smiles at the little boy's bluntness, but keeps his happiness hidden, except for squeezing the child slightly harder. "Why thank you," he replies, carrying his new little brother to bed for a nap. "Tomorrow, we can go down to the lake, if you want," he suggests softly.

Arthur nods contentedly, but doesn't let go of his second onii-chan until he's completely asleep. Chuckling, Francis detaches himself from the child and turns off the lights, going down to inform Alfred of their plans.

oOo

The next day, two of the three countries rise early in the morning to get ready for what is sure to be a big day. Francis starts making cold-cut sandwiches (while complaining about having to make something as non-gourmet as cold cut sandwiches) and Alfred starts fishing around in the storage room for his old swimming stuff.

Of course, going into that room has long been a source of great pain for the independent nation, but you gotta do what you gotta do…

As he's sifting through the junk, a sad, nostalgic smile on his face, Little Arthur wakes up and notices the door open. Curious, the little blonde decides to peek inside, where he sees… Alfred. But that doesn't surprise him. He tip-toes inside, trying not to alert his onii-chan to his presence, and starts looking around at all the cool stuff. There's a dirty suit sitting in one corner, a musket high out of reach that seems a little beat up, and… some toy soldiers!

Creeping quietly over to the toys, he smiles widely. Arthur had always wanted some of these, but Allistor and his other brothers never got him any, no matter how much he asked. But now here they are, albeit a little beat up, for the taking. Giggling a little, he takes out one of the soldiers in his hands and starts to examine it.

Now, at this point Alfred is too depressed by all the memories to notice when his "little brother" enters the room, but it's hard for him to miss the sounds of wood clacking together. Spinning around, he's surprised to see Arthur sitting contentedly on the floor, playing with the very toy soldiers he himself had made for Alfred in the future.

Although some part of him is saddened at the sight, the older country can't help but smile at the innocent, carefree expression on the little boy's face as he made the men "battle" each other. Chuckling lightly, he walks over to Arthur and bends down. "You like those?"

Arthur starts and looks up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to touch your things without asking," he apologizes quickly.

"No, it's fine. Play with them all you want. Technically, they're yours anyway," he mumbles the last part under his breath. Arthur grins widely and goes back to playing with his new/old toys.

Alfred, still smiling, goes back and picks up the swimming supplies for the lake. "You ready to go?" he asks. The boy nods, and gets up, leaving the soldiers on the ground to play with later.

The two reach the kitchen just as Francis is putting the finishing touches on their meals. "Is everyone ready for a day at the beach?" he exclaims happily, earning himself a cheer. Arthur runs out the door, swimsuit in hand, while the older nations walking leisurely behind him.

"It's ironic," Alfred says quietly.

"What?" Francis asks.

"Oh, when I was looking for my old swimming gear, Arthur found these old toy soldiers his future self made for me when I was a kid... he seemed to really like them, even though they were all old and beat up," Alfred explains.

Francis chuckles. "I'm not surprised. He's always wanted a set of those things. I'll never understand why."

Alfred only nods, deep in thought. _Could England have been trying to give me the childhood he never got to have?_


	8. Update!

**Hey! It's applechan53! Okay, I'm so sorry but this is just an update. As compensation, tonight I'll work very hard, and there will be a new chapter by Friday. (This is where you say "There had better be, da?")**

**Okay, but that's not why I updated. Yesterday, April 23, was England's birthday, and I have to say a warm "Happy Birthday" to both him and... Prussia! That's right, today is the second birthday of Prussia the micronation. If you don't believe me, look it up. \(^o^)/**

**If any of you don't have an awesome day on today, April 24, I will makes sure Prussia's army has it's revenge.**

**Ja,, mata! Kesesesesese...**


	9. Chapter 8

**Hi! It's applechan53! So I managed to get another chapter in! \(^o^)/**

**Well, it's coming down to... THE END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR! ALL US STUDENT FOLK GET TO GO HOME! XD My class trip this year falls on May 17, which just happens to be Norway's birthday! So I might make some kind of brotherly Iceland/Norway oneshot to upload to commemorate one of my favorite characters birthdays (the other one is, you guessed it, our beloved Iggy), but I don't know... we'll see.**

**Is anyone else out there a HUGE anglophile? Like, not an Iggy-phile, an honest-to-goodness ANGLOphile? I am. The British are AWESOME! (Look at me, fitting the American stereotype! :3). If you are, then England MUST be one of your fave Hetalia characters, da? Sorry, just wanna know... maybe I'll make a poll about it or something... IDK...**

**Ja, here's your story-**

* * *

At around 10 am, the trio set off on the long-awaited trip to the lake. Arthur continually struggles to keep up with his arms full of swimming gear, but always manages to run ahead when he's falling behind. Alfred and Francis would help the child, but they themselves have their hands full; Alfred with towels (one has the American flag on it… more than a little difficult to explain), clothes, and toys, Francis with the multiple picnic baskets he prepared. Each basket has a unique, tantalizing scent that makes everyone anticipate lunch.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, they finally reach the picturesque lake. Emerald mountains with white peaks sprout up in the distance, deer, rabbits, birds, and foxes surround the edges, drinking their fill before darting back into the safety of the trees, and beautiful red, gold, and purple flowers frame the green trees.

"C'est tellement beau," Francis sighs as everyone drinks up the gorgeous scene.

Arthur notices, and replies curtly, "English, please."

"It's so beautiful," the Frenchman translates, patting the little child on the head. "Now, mon garçon, why don't you go play? The water looks lovely."

Arthur doesn't need to be asked twice. Throwing down all the toys he doesn't need at the moment, he sprints out into the open water, laughing and almost tripping more than once. "Hey, careful!" Alfred yells, "Don't make the hero come save you!" The kid just glares at his older brother before busying himself looking at the shimmering fish swimming through the sapphire expanse.

The two men sit under a particularly shady tree and settle in. Francis thought ahead and packed a few books; books Alfred probably couldn't read if he wanted to. For one thing, they were in French, but even if they had been in English it would have been that "Ye Old" stuff no _modern _person could understand. So, he contented himself watching the clouds and humming his national anthem quietly to himself. After a little while, he starts singing under his breath, making sure the medieval Francis couldn't hear. An overwhelming homesickness enters his heart upon hearing the words to his beloved anthem, and a single tear falls down his cheek. Before anyone can see it, he wipes the glistening tribute to his loss away.

By noon, Alfred is playing in the water _with _Arthur, having been too bored to do much else. As the sun reaches its highest point in the sky, Francis calls them back for lunch. Hungry and eager to eat the surely amazing meal the French chef had prepared, they run through the water as fast as they can, although Arthur can't manage the task easily and has to be carried by his older brother.

They all sit down to a meal of baguette and pot a feu with éclairs, crème brulee, and macaroons for dessert. By the end of the feast, Alfred and Arthur don't even mind waiting an hour to start swimming again, as they've both fallen asleep.

* * *

By the time everyone is fully awake it's 3 pm; the sun is beginning to make its way back down again. Francis and Alfred find themselves with a dilemma. Arthur wants to stay and have more fun, but the nights are getting shorter and shorter as autumn comes closer and closer, so if they don't start making their way back, they could be stuck out here…

"But I'm having so much fun!" Arthur cries, angry. "Can't I just have another hour?"

"But mon garçon," Francis attempts to explain, "If we don't head back now, the wolves will probably devour us before we ever see Alfred's house again." He says this in a happy, lilting tone, but it still makes the child's eyes widen in fear.

"W-wolves?" he asks nervously, looking around.

Alfred nods. "That's right. If we don't leave now, the wolves will come and eat us for dinner."

Not eager to become some animal's side dish, Arthur runs over and picks up his dripping-wet swimming gear. "I'm ready. We can come back later," he says, hurrying into the woods. The two adults share a smile before running after the frightened kid.

* * *

That night, after making it safely back into the house and eating a light dinner (well, for Francis and Arthur it was light. Alfred was already starving again _long _before getting home), everyone settles down for bed, exhausted from their day of fun.

Francis sleeps downstairs, where the best reading light is, but Arthur and Alfred are in adjacent rooms, just in case anything should happen. Once the little boy is sound asleep, Alfred eats yet another hamburger and heads to bed himself.

But in the middle of the night, a soft pattering on the hardwood floors alerts him to another presence in the room. Soon, there's a small weight on the opposite end of the bed, and creaking as the thing makes it over to the country's side. "A-Alfred?" a small voice asks, "A-are you asleep?"

"No," the older country mumbles, turning to face his tiny brother. "What's wrong?"

"I-I couldn't sleep," Arthur whispers. "I was af-fraid the wolves would c-come eat me in m-my sleep."

Alfred can tell the poor kid's been crying, so he quickly pulls him into a hug. "You can sleep here tonight," he says quietly, rubbing the terrorized boy's head. "I won't let them eat you."

Arthur, comforted, nuzzles deeper into the warmth, and Alfred listens as his breathing gets more and more even. "Good night, little brother," he mumbles to the sleeping child, before exhaustion claims him, too.

* * *

**AH SO KAWAII! Well, next chapter, I'm thinking of bringing Allistor and the rest of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (I know that by heart!) into the scene. I've gotten into their whole family relationship recently, and feel like it should be fun to write out. I have something truely EVIL in store for ya'll. Mwahaha- I mean- KOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOL ^J^**


	10. Chapter 9

The next morning, little Arthur doesn't wake up. Putting a hand on the kid's arm, Alfred realizes he's really warm! "W-what's going on?!" the older country panics, running in tight circles and pulling his short hair. "Um, um, first I should, um, what should I, um, FRANCIS!" he finally yells, running out the door to find the (also sleeping) blonde.

"What is it Alfred?" the groggy country asks, rubbing his sleepy blue eyes.

"Something's wrong with Arthur! He's all warm and red and I don't know what's going on!" Alfred says, using huge arm gestures to illustrate the problem. He's starting to grab his hair to show his panic as Francis jumps up, grabs the hysterical country, and drags him out of the room.

"As I thought," the Frenchman says woefully, putting his hand gingerly on Arthur's too-warm forehead. "He's caught a bad cold."

"… What's a cold?" America asks, eyes growing thin in confusion behind his glasses.

Francis sputters. "Do you not have colds wherever you are? It must be heaven…"

"Well, I've never heard of them. But yeah, my home _is _heaven. For me, at least. My, um, citizens aren't particularly happy right now."

"Ah…" Francis replies, then, after a pause, asks "Are you homesick? We'll get you back soon. I've just got to find a good time to explain the problem to the young Angleterre."

Alfred shakes his head. "Give me another few weeks. I'm going to give Arthur a good childhood, whether he remembers it or not when he grows up. Just… when I'm gone, make sure to tell him if he does remember me, not to mention it until the year 2013. I won't even know I'm doing this until then, so it's kinda important."

"Of course," the Frenchman replies, putting a cold compress on the sick boy's head. "But are you sure he will keep the promise?"

The American nods. "He never mentioned it, so either he kept his promise or… h-he really doesn't remember me then." His voice cracks as he realizes that he doesn't want that. Not at all.

Francis, noticing the younger country's distress, sends him a comforting smile. "I'm sure he'll remember. You're pretty hard to forget, even for someone as young as him."

Alfred grins, wiping his eyes, which had begun to tears. "Ya think?"

But before Francis can reassure him, a small voice mumbles, "B-big brothers?"

"Hm?" the two men say in unison, smiling at the ailing boy.

"Nothing… it's just… your here," he says, grinning as wide as he can in his weak state. "My brothers are never here when I'm sick…"

At that moment, the doorbell rings. "I'll get it," Francis says, leaving Alfred and Arthur alone. For a minute, there's awkward silence, until screaming downstairs sends Alfred flying out of the room to see what the trouble is.

"-YOU ARE NOT SEEING HIM AND THAT IS FINAL!" Francis yells.

"Our BROTHER is SICK! You have NO right to deny us access! NOW LET US IN! NOW!" a younger-sounding voice yells. Alfred pales. Allistor.

"Allistor, do we even deserve to see him?" another voice asks quietly.

"Yeah, I mean, what've we been doing all this time? How can we expect to be allowed back into his life now?" a second new voice adds.

Finally, the American manages to round the corner and see the other nations. Allistor is there, along with two other teens who share his red hair and green eyes.

The Frenchman, following the boy's deterred gaze, notices Alfred. "Alfred," he says, "meet Connor, who personifies Ireland, and Dylan, who personifies Wales."

"Connor, Dylan," Alfred regards the kids coldly. "Am I to assume these two are the other brothers?"

Francis nods. "They believe they have the right to see their brother in his sick state."

Alfred stares in shock, then abruptly faces the boys, a fire in his blue eyes that hasn't been seen since 1776, when he finally got geared up to gain his independence. "WHAT MADE YOU THINK THAT?! YOU WERE NEVER THERE FOR HIM! HATRED! THAT IS _ALL _HE EVER FELT FROM YOU! AND NOW YOU COME HERE TO DO WHAT… TEASE HIM FOR HIS WEAKNESS? YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT TO-" The country stops mid-rant as he notices the state the boys are in. Allistor is looking down at the floor in shame, Connor looks desolate beyond words, and Dylan is actually in tears. After a few seconds, without tearing his eyes off the scene, he says more softly, "Francis… take them to their brother." Said boys look up, shocked that the yelling changed so quickly.

"But Alfred, they are-"

"Francis. I've seen this before. Take them upstairs. _Now." _He insists.

Without another word, he nods, and the five walk upstairs, although Alfred lags behind. _England looked exactly the same the day we reconciled, _he remembers. That day was bittersweet. It meant letting go of his angst and forgiving his enemy, but he regained some sort of relationship with his father… in truth, he still thinks of Arthur as his dad, but… it's like he grew up and left the house. That doesn't mean the Brit isn't his dad anymore. Although here, it's kind of the other way around…

"W-why are they here?!" a hoarse voice yells, and Alfred sprints away for the second time that day, previous train of thought forgotten.

* * *

**Hi! It's applechan53! I put my other story on a short hiatus, but this one... I'll keep doing this one. Just, having two stories at once is hard, and I'm trying to do a couple one-shots, so I couldn't keep it up with my busy schedule. But for any of you reading Days in the Life of a Country, I'll pick it up again in a bit, ne? You can sic Russia on me... or worse, Belarus after telling her I like Russia if I don't.**

**Well, I've recently heard about the Romania Hetalia character, and he's already on my favorites list! Now I like the entire "Magic Trio" (England, Norway, and Romania) plus kind of Russia... don't tell Belarus...**

**Well, as usual I should have another story up by Friday, but Friday, May 17, I'm ****_really _****busy, so it may be up either a day later or earlier if I can't find the time.**

**Also, I've been neglecting my manners! Gomennasai! Thanks to all these people for reviewing:  
**

**Lilly Vargas (your name is awesome! And I'm happy you think the story's cute!****)****  
**

**BrOwNiEfOx (love your Harry Potter/Hetalia crossover; keep it up!)**

**SailorCheesy (It's like Sailor Moon, but Cheese! (like moon cheese!) And thanks for celebrating Prussia and England's birthdays with me!)**

**reviewer74 (Your name... it's so perfect... and I hope you've liked all the chapters since you reviewed!)**

**aquamarinetiger98 (I would LOVE to see a tiger in aquamarine! And the thought broke my heart, too)**

**Ochita Teikoku (Hi~ What does your name mean? Or is it just something from an anime?)**

**xXDoliXx (I've been updating. A lot. Thanks for being my first ever review! :3)**

**Ja, mata! (-_-)7**


	11. Chapter 10

"Hey, kid," Allistor says, standing awkwardly in the doorway beside his two brothers. "Um… how're you doing?"

"F-fine…" Arthur says, eyes squinting in suspicion. "Why are you here?"

Allistor fakes a smile. "Can't a guy just visit his brother when he's sick?"

Arthur shrinks back into his blankets, pulling them all the way up over his nose. "What're you going to do to me?" he asks fearfully. It's a quick change of countenance, but what else could you expect?

Dylan's lower lip begins to quiver. _What's wrong with us? _he thinks sadly, _What have we been _doing? "N-nothing," he answers Arthur, so quietly even his brothers, inches away, can hardly hear him. "We aren't going to do anything… but why should he believe us? Why should he accept our apology?"

"He has to," Allistor whispers back, "I might _die _if he doesn't."

"Yeah, he's our little brother. We need him! Allistor, we know you chickened out last time and played it off as a prank, but we _have _to succeed this time!" Connor mumbles.

Dylan's lower lip starts quivering more and more, until he's forced to run out of the room, holding back tears. "He shouldn't even have to listen to us!" he says to himself, remorse flowing through him thick as blood. "We don't even deserve to be heard after everything we did!" Suddenly, lacking the energy to do anything more, he sits down, hugs his knees to his chest, puts his head down, and lets the sobs wrack him, all the while crying "I'm sorry" over and over again. He was always the sensitive one of the trio.

For a while, he sits like that, while his brothers attempt in vain to get on Arthur's good side. The kid refuses to remove himself even a little from under the covers, having associated pain and suffering with each of their faces.

Eventually, though, as his brothers continue to make lighthearted small talk, he grows more and more interested in the fact that they haven't hit him yet. Of course, he's still wary, but his head starts to peek out more and more, until you can even see his mouth, pulled thin with worry, but still visible.

Finally, he notices something, and speaks up for the first time during the long conversation. "W-where's D-Dylan?" he asks quietly. What if his brother's trying to sneak up on him while his guard is down?

Allistor and Connor look around. "He never did come back, did he?" Allistor asks. "Should we look for him?"

"Give him a bit," Connor replies.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Arthur says, blushing red. It's true. He hasn't been out of bed all day, and Francis has been giving him _tons _of water in hopes that it will heal him.

Alfred offers to take him, but the boy shakes his head. "I need to walk by myself so I can get strong again."

After that, the two adults have no choice but to allow the small child to pass through the door to relieve himself in the bathroom a couple hallways down.

Afterwards, though, as he's heading back down the hall, there's a giant flash of light followed by a deafening crash, and he starts sprinting toward the bathrooms. Who knew thunderclouds could sneak up so fast? "Help!" he screams, just as another crash booms across the sky, drowning out his cry.

With the next flash, the lights go out, blackening the windowless hallway. "Somebody please help me," he whispers fearfully, feeling his way along the walls. Seemingly out of nowhere, he hears the sound of someone crying.

"H-hello?" he asks sheepishly, rounding the corner towards the sound. "I-is someone t-there?" There's no answer, but the crying stops, so he continues. "I-it's t-thundering out and I'm s-scared. P-please help me."

Suddenly, in the short period of time between a flash of lightning invisible in the hallway, where all the doors are closed, and the next round of thunder, Arthur finds himself sitting on the floor, with someone's arm around him, covering his tiny ears. He stiffens for a minute, realizing that it's probably not Alfred or Francis, but eventually relaxes, since it's warm and somehow not as scary as the dark hallway.

Dylan was shocked when he heard his little brother's voice in the hallway, but the moment he realized what was going on, he immediately knew he had to help his kin. Now, he wonders why he never noticed before that his brother was terrified of thunder; why his brother never screamed when they were around. The answer hurts to think about.

As the little boy's breathing becomes more and more even, he plants a soft kiss in his blonde hair and mumbles softly, "I'm so sorry for everything."

oOo

Alfred, Francis, Allistor, and Connor got more and more worried as time went on, until finally Alfred was forced to go find a flashlight, a device Francis had seen before, but the two younger boys marveled at. The kept exclaiming about 'how easy it is to see in the dark now' and 'how interesting that it gives off light without using fire,' the entire way.

Finally, the beam of light settles on the objects of their search. Arthur is curled up on Dylan's lap, hair wild around him and thumb placed firmly in his mouth (a habit Francis had long been trying to break), while Dylan rests his hand on the boy's shoulder, head leaned back against the wall, mouth slightly open, and red hair falling around his ears.

"I almost don't want to wake them up," Francis mumbles, but walks over to the kids anyway and pokes Dylan on the shoulder. "Dylan, it's time to wake up. I'm guessing you don't want to spend the night on the floor."

"Is it still thundering?" the redhead mutters, half asleep.

"A little bit. I suppose… if you want, he can… he can… sleep… with you," Francis relents reluctantly.

"Mmm. Should I carry him?" he asks.

"It would probably be best," Alfred says, "and I only have two extra bedrooms open, so I suppose for tonight you and Arthur will share, and Allistor and Connor will, too."

"Right," the other two teens say in unison, too ecstatic at their brother's breakthrough to care that _they _don't get to sleep with their baby brother.

So, Dylan carries the still-sleeping Arthur to his, room, and they fall asleep together, Arthur clutching one of Dylan's fingers in his tiny hand. Francis shakes his head, having never believed the day when he'd see this would ever arrive. "I seriously hope those three don't develop a brother complex. The Angleterre is _mine,_" he hisses venomously, causing Alfred to laugh fearfully at his crazy expression.

The next morning, when Arthur wakes up, the first thing the notices is that he's no longer sick. The second thing is he's sleeping in the same bed as his brother. But, even though his first instinct is to scream, he lifts up his tiny hand and places it on Dylan's cheek, trying to wake him up so they can start their first day together…

* * *

**Hi! It's applechan53! So, put your hands in the air if Ctrl+Z is your best friend! I can't tell you HOW many times I've clicked "Cut" to transfer this from the Word Document I write in onto here!**

**Yep, that's right, I made this into a England x Brothers (brotherly love) fanfiction! I AM AWESOME!**

**Prussia: HOW DARE YOU USE MY CATCH PHRASE!**


	12. Chapter 11

Dylan forces his eyes open, trying to overcome the soreness from his tears the night before. The first thing he notices is that there's something warm on his cheek, something he can't identify. Slowly, he moves his hand up and touches a soft hand, and the memories from last night come flooding back to him. "Good morning Arthur," he says cheerily, pulling the hand so the boy is forced into a giant hug.

"G-good morning," Arthur replies, shocked by the sudden movement. But his voice is muffled by the fact his face is shoved into his brother's shoulder.

"Did you sleep well?" Dylan asks. He's worried about last night's thunder storm.

"Yes," the child mumbles through the fabric. "But… could you let me go now?"

"Oh, right," Dylan says, and releases him. "What do you want to do today?"

Arthur's eyes widen as he takes in those words, the ones he's longed to hear. Although he's never gotten to do things with his family, and he's not sure how exactly to go about it, he likes the sound of them coming from his brother. Still, he's still not entirely sure about Allistor and Connor… "C-can we get Alfred and Francis t-to take us all to the beach?" he asks shyly.

Dylan grins and replies, "Of course! The weather looks beautiful out now, so there shouldn't be a problem!" Arthur's face lights up, and he's so pleased he actually lets Dylan carry him downstairs to tell the others.

"Dude, there shouldn't be a problem with that!" Alfred exclaims, "But… I've gotta go into the storage closet again…"

"Can I play with the toy soldiers again? Please?" Arthur asks excitedly.

The American looks down at him with a sad smile and nods. "Sure."

"Yay!" he exclaims, "Let's go, let's go, let's go!" He half-leads, half-drags Alfred down the hall into the closet.

"You three come too," Alfred tells his… would they be uncles? That's weird, since they're younger than him, but he supposes that must be it.

They run after him, leaving Francis in the kitchen to finish making breakfast.

In the storage room, Arthur immediately finds the soldiers, and he and Dylan start playing. Eventually, Dylan convinces him to let Allistor and Connor into the game, and together the four brothers have a great time.

Alfred can see Arthur is visibly warmer to all three boys than he was only twenty-four hours ago. The sight brings a smile to his face as he remembers the happy days he spent with his own brother, Matthew… the two still play catch every once in a while, but for some reason it seems like Mattie hasn't been wanting to play recently. He wonders why.

"Le temps pour le petit déjeuner!" Francis calls from the kitchen.

"English, please!" all five boys scream at once.

"Time for breakfast!" he translates, in a distinctly exasperated tone. "Learn French you idiots!"

"English is fine, thanks!" Allistor replies, earning giggles from his three brothers. The Frenchman's grumbles are clearly audible all throughout the house.

After scarfing down a delicious breakfast of cheesy egg omelets and toast, everyone heads out, down the path to the beach.

All day, Alfred and Francis watch in awe as Arthur, who was terrified of his brothers not one day ago, plays happily in the waves, looking more joyful and carefree than ever before. The sky is a brilliant blue, with only a few little clouds, and the sun shines brightly on their happiness, creating the absolute perfect atmosphere. But something seems off to Alfred; he feels all tingly, as if something big is about to happen. But he shrugs off the feeling in favor of frolicking in the waves with Arthur and company.

oOo

As it turns out, however, Alfred's feeling has some merit. He actually makes it all the way to his front door before noticing… there's no front door. He's trying to open air. "What the…" he mumbles, looking around. His house is gone.

Francis shoots him a worried look, which he returns. Could the spell be wearing off on its own? That can't be, right? He has to stay and help Arthur! He can't leave yet! But no sooner does he think this, then he feels something happening, deep down in his chest. Worriedly, he runs over to Francis. "It's happening. I'm leaving."

Francis nods solemnly. "I'll tell them everything once you're gone," he assures the American, who nods gratefully before turning to the three redheads.

"You had better be good to your brother from now on, or this hero is going to have to come back and strangle you all."

"W-where are you going?" Allistor asks, but the "hero" ignores the question, moving on to Arthur.

"Arthur, buddy, I've gotta go now, okay? But you have your brothers, you'll be fine." The shell-shocked child just nods, tears forming in his eyes. "You have to remember me, okay? Promise me you'll remember. Promise me, please!" his voice cracks in desperation and his own eyes water.

"I promise," Arthur whispers. Then, he reaches up and gives Alfred the biggest hug he can. The older country quickly returns.

"Goodbye, Arthur. I'm sure you'll be a great man one day. I can't wait until I meet you again," he says with finality in his tone. He knows it's almost time for him to disappear. "All of you will surely be great men. I can't wait until I can see you all a second time."

"I love you, Alfred," Arthur whispers quietly, still hugging his "onii-chan" tightly.

"I love you too," Alfred says, choking on his tears, before he slowly disappears, leaving nothing but air in his place.

oOo

"I thought you said this was going to work right away!" Arthur yells at Vladimir and Lukas, who are in the middle of performing a spell.

"It should have, unless something's holding him back somehow!" Vlad yells, stressed out from trying to keep the spell alive.

"What if I never see Alfred again?" Arthur cries, "This is all my fault! Me and my stupid temper! Now he may be gone forever!"

Lukas looks at the desolate country with no outward emotion, but inside he feels nothing but sympathy. He knows how much it would hurt if something happened to Emil; he would probably try to kill himself. That's why he knows this has to work.

Suddenly, there's a flash, and the Magic Trio is sent flying towards the walls. "Ow…" Vlad mumbles, rubbing his head. But he stops when he sees who's in the middle of the floor.

"ALFRED!" Arthur yells, running over to his ex-colony. "I can't believe it! You're alright!"

"Yeah… I'm fine…" Alfred mumbles.

"W-why do you look so sad?" Arthur asks, "Come on, you have a long list of calls to make, starting with Russia. He tried t o take my head off when he found out what happened." The blonde shudders at the memory.

"How long was I gone…?" Alfred mumbles, still a bit dazed.

Arthur stifles a sob. "You've been gone a year now. Almost to the day, actually."

"A year?!" Alfred exclaims, "It felt like a _fraction _of that!"

Arthur shakes his head. "Never mind that. Let's just go call Russia before he kills me, okay?"

The American chuckles. "He was worried about me, huh? Well, I guess we are on better terms after the whole 'Cold War' thing. Who else do I need to call?"

Arthur smiles. "My brothers. Allistor, Dylan, and Connor are sick with worry." Alfred's eyes widen as he realizes exactly what that means…

* * *

**Hi~! It's applechan53!**

**So, I'm uploading this a day early because I'm gonna be gone all day tomorrow and most of Saturday, so... your welcome!**

**Okay, if anybody doesn't understand, I'm going to explain this chapter in the next one, da? So just bear with me.**

**I KNOW I'M ENDING IT SUDDENLY! But it just seemed like a good place to stop... there should be at least another chapter or two, though... and perhaps a sequel, if you want. But you'd have to give me a suggestion about what to do for something like that...**

**England, Romania, and Norway... the magic trio... SQUEEEEEE! OMGOSHNESS they are my FAVORITE trio EVER! XD... if I could just meet them, Russia, the Nordics, and FACE (France is only there so I can see Iggy get mad X3), my life would be COMPLETE!**

**By the way, I'm spreading the word: THEY'RE COMING OUT WITH NEW HETALIA CHARACTER SONGS! XD I just heard about it from VYHeta614 (Thank you soooo much!), and have listened to them all over and over and over and over... LIST TIME!**

**Nah, It Will Settle Itself Somehow (Romano)**

**Mawary Chikyuu Rondo (Italy)**

**Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo (Romano)**

**Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo (Japan)**

**Let's Look Behind the Rainbow (Italy)**

**Dream Journey (Japan)**

**May You Smile Today (Japan)**

**... and guess who's next? ENGLAND AND GERMANY, THAT'S WHO!**

**This is your reward for reading this far, and for reading this author's note thingy. You are awesome.**

**BTW, I did my nails today. Cool huh? You should actually care a bit, though, because... they have country's flags on them! XD (the Nordics on the left hand, FACE and Russia on the other).**

**Well, that's all I have to say. CIAO!**


	13. Chapter 12

"Hello?" a voice asks from the other line as the man answer's Alfred's call. He considers slamming his phone shut. _No, you have to do this, _he tells himself.

"H-hello," Alfred replies warily. On the other end, there's silence.

"A-Alfie? Is that you?" the voice exclaims. "Are you okay? It's been a whole year since you went missing! Arthur didn't think his spell would last that long! We thought you'd be back by the end of 2013, but it's already 2014! When are you going to visit? Can you fly in tomorrow? I'm so happy you're back-"

"Okay, Dylan, it's alright, I get it. I'll try to come by as soon as possible, okay?" Alfred attempts to appease the redhead babbling at the other end of the cell phone. "I already called Connor and Allistor. Arthur, you three, and I are going try to get together sometime soon."

"Right. Okay, I'll see you then, I guess," Dylan says, only slightly satisfied.

"Great. Bye!" Alfred exclaims, effectively ending the conversation. "Okay Arthur, that's everybody," he gasps, turning his attention to the blonde still watching him from across the table in the small 50's-style diner they decided to visit for lunch.

"Good," Arthur says, nodding his head.

"I'm gonna get going then," Alfred tells his ex-father, "unless you have anything else to tell me…"

Arthur deliberates this for a second, then says, "There's another hamburger place down the street, if you get hungry."

The American plasters on a smile. "Right… thanks, dude. I'll check it out..." He slowly walks toward the door, feeling overwhelmed. It's not that this future is all that different; the only thing that's changed is the fact that Arthur gets along better with his brothers now, although he still hates Francis just as much. (who knows why) No, the real thing bothering him is that it would seem that nobody, not even Francis, remembers him at all…

Suddenly, the self-proclaimed "hero" of the world feels like crying. Okay, so it's not just a feeling. He runs down the street at top-speed, using his super-strength to carry him into a lush, green woods that distinctly reminds him of the one back with little Arthur and everybody else. Finding a moss-covered log, he lies down lengthwise across it to think. Could Arthur really have broken his promise to him? Did he really forget? "W-who needs him?" Alfred asks, drawing a shaky breath and covering his eyes with his arm. "I'm America! I'm the hero! I don't need an angry British person for a friend!" But this line of thinking doesn't really help much...

oOo

Soon, months have gone by, and Alfred is finally beginning to adjust to both his newer, higher-tech surroundings, and the fact that he's been forgotten by everyone he met back in the old days. Unfortunately, _beginning _to adjust still means that his heart hurts every time he thinks about it, but at least it's a start.

As he's thinking about all this one day, his cell phone starts blaring "The Star-Spangled Banner", shocking him out of his dismal thoughts. "Hero speaking," he answers, trying to keep his tone light enough to pass as carefree contentment.

"Hello, Alfred?" a voice asks, "we need to get together and have a chat."

* * *

**Hi! It's applechan53! Sorry for uploading it so much later than usual! And sorry this chapter's so short... the finale might be longer... it should be...**

**That's right- the next chapter is the GRAND FINALE OF MY FIRST-EVER FANFICTION! This is not only the first story I ever published here, but it's my most popular, too, so thanks to everyone who's been reading!**

**A guest asked me why I made the time Alfred was gone a year. Good question! It's supposed to make the whole time-travel thing difficult for the characters to wrap their minds around... you shouldn't understand how that effects the story yet, though. I promise it'll all be explained by the time I upload the next chapter.**

**Speaking of which, I'll upload the final chapter sometime this week. It might be tomorrow, it might be next Friday. Just be on the lookout please!**


	14. Chapter 13

"W-what?" Alfred asks. "Why are you…?" Why would Arthur be calling him? Could Alfred have been wrong about all this? Does he actually remember him? He knows he shouldn't let himself hope, but he does anyway.

"We need to discuss which topics to bring up at the next meeting," Arthur explains. And just like that, Alfred's hopes are dashed.

"Oh… right. I'm not sure this is a good time... m-maybe later?" All he wants to do is sit in bed and stare at a wall. It feels like a freight train ran over his heart. Twice. How could he be so stupid as to let himself hope?

Feeling more depressed than ever before, the American climbs into his Superman footie pajamas, turns on the giant flatscreen to some random cartoon channel, and stares at it, not really paying attention, even when his favorite show comes on. _I just want him to remember me,_ he thinks sadly, _I don't care if he likes me for being there or hates me for leaving, I just don't want him to forget. _An awful thought strikes him. _What if he does remember me, he just doesn't care now? That would be… that would be horrible! Just let him hate me please! _After this, his thoughts go in circles for a while, until the noise in his head blocks out even the blaring TV.

Eventually, he works himself up so much, his forehead starts to get warm with a slight fever. He doesn't care. _Nothing matters anymore._

oOo

Meanwhile, in the outside world, Arthur is beginning to get worried. He's noticed Alfred has been less than his usual happy-go-crazy self, but this is the worst he's seen. Whenever Arthur comes to America, they _always _meet up at McDonald's to discuss things. Alfred wouldn't turn it down for _anything;_ he scarfs hamburgers like Russia downs vodka: by the ton. Something must be really wrong for him to want to stay home…

While Arthur sits there brooding, three redheads walk up and sit down next to him. "What's up?" Connor asks.

Arthur frowns. "It's Alfred. He just… he just turned me down for hamburgers. At _McDonald's._" Saying it out loud makes it even _more _unbelievable.

The boys' eyes widen, and they look at each other. "Do you think he could…" Dylan asks, and the other two shrug.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asks, confused. They stiffen, and turn to him with fake smiles.

"Do you remember that guy from when you were little?" Allistor asks.

"The guy who visited you for a few months when you were a kid living with Francis?" Connor asks.

"The guy who's the reason you don't hate us right now?" asks Dylan.

Arthur nods. "Yeah, Alfred. America. I know this Alfred is the same one; I've known it since the first time I saw him as a little boy… but what does that have to do with anything?"

Allistor asks, "Do you remember the year he told you to wait till to talk to him?"

Arthur shakes his head. "I was only about four at the time, and it seemed so far away…"

Connor facepalms. "I think it was last year, the year he went missing. We got confused about it for a while, so we didn't say anything, but him being with you was probably the _reason _he was missing!"

"B-but he wasn't with us for a _whole year!"_ the Englishman protests.

"Exactly," Dylan says, "That's why we were confused. But your spell must have been messed up or something. He probably remembers you now."

Arthur's face lights up. He's been waiting for this day almost his entire life! But just as quickly, the smile is wiped off his face. "Are you saying that he remembers me, but thinks I've forgotten him?" They nod. "Oh crap…" he mumbles, before sprinting towards the rental "American" car, which he's not particularly good at driving, wrong side of the road and all that.

"Hey, wait!" Allistor says, and the three redheads run after their brother. "We've gotta be there, too!"

"Then you had better hurry it up!" Arthur yells, starting the engine. Everyone piles in just before he slams his foot on the gas and squeals away.

"What are we gonna do?" Dylan asks from the passenger seat, which he somehow managed to snag in all the commotion.

"We're going to Alfred's house. I'll think of something when we get there," he says.

"_That's_ reassuring," Connor mumbles.

The four brothers arrive at Alfred's house ten minutes faster than they would have if Arthur hadn't been driving like a madman. "Promise me you will never drive anything that way ever again," Dylan asks, clutching the handle on the dashboard.

"No time to talk! Come on!" the Brit exclaims, running up to the front door and banging on it as hard as he can. No answer. "Open up!" he screams. After a couple more tries, he gets impatient and starts looking for a spare key, finding one… under the welcome mat. In different circumstances, Arthur would have taken a moment of silence in memory of his American kin's common sense, which died with his journey to adulthood, but he's kind of in a hurry right now. So, he jams the key into the lock, shoves open the door, and dashes around the house, searching for where Alfred might be hiding.

Finally, he finds him in his bedroom, staring at a TV with a pained look on his face. Arthur checks the show. Spongebob. Nothing remotely painful about that, unless you can understand all the adult humor. "Alfred!" he yells as Dylan, Connor, and Allistor run up behind him.

The American turns to Arthur in surprise. "What are you doing here?" he asks, sounding like his heart had died. The Englishman pales at the sound of the ever-cheerful man's dead voice.

"I-I'm here for… do you actually… have you…" He pauses. "You kept the soldiers all this time?"

Alfred looks down, mortified. "How do you know about that? I never let you in my storage roo-" His blue eyes widen, and he looks up at Arthur. "You… you…?" He sounds like he doesn't want to believe it.

Arthur smiles softly and answers his unspoken question. "Yes."

Alfred asks, "Then why didn't you say anything? Why did you just let me think you forgot?"

The Brit blushes. "I sort of forgot which year you said you'd remember… we all had to put two and two together…"

The American's goes from deadened, to shock, to anger, and finally a smirk. "You know, I did you all a huge favor," he tells them, changing the subject a bit. "You guys _hated _each other before I went back and fixed your brotherhood!"

Arthur's eyes widen. "Things weren't always like this?" he asks. This is certainly news to him.

"No," Alfred states, "Well, you and Francis are still the same, and nothing else really changed, but you were a real loner in the other future… past… thing. Always going on and on about 'magical creatures' that no one else could see."

Arthur yells, "Hey, they're real!"

"Whatever. The point is you're happier now. It's nice to see," Alfred smiles.

"Right, well… th-thank you for that, I suppose," Arthur mumbles.

"No problem!" Alfred says, "Hey… my appetite is back! Let's go to Mickey D's and catch up, 'kay?"

Arthur grins. "Sure."

Epilogue:

"Hey Arthur! Have you found the spot yet?" The five boys had been trying for months to find the exact spot in England where they met as children, but to no avail. Now, things still aren't looking much better.

Arthur sighs. "No, not yet. Shame. It's so hot out; I would love to go swimming."

"Yeah, we'll just have to deal with the local pool for now, I guess. But don't worry, we'll find it. I just wish you'd let Francis help," Dylan tells him.

"I will not let that frog help me find a precious memory of my childhood!" the Englishman insists.

"He was _there_, he was _part _of the memory! Just let him help!" Allistor yells.

"Not on my life," he says, "I don't want to recount the past with someone like _him._"

Alfred scoffs. "What did he ever do to you? You used to get along so well."

"That was before he became a disgusting pervert," Arthur hisses.

"Fine, fine. We'll find it without him!" Alfred relents, "But I may have to invite him to swim once we do…"

"WHY YOU!" Arthur screams, and Alfred laughs as he attempts to attack him. Another happy day for this strange little family…

* * *

**Aaaand... DONE! Hi~! It's applechan53! And this completes my first-ever published fanfiction! I'm already working on thinking of another idea, plus I have a Russia x reader oneshot I have been DESPERATELY trying to make work, and I'm gonna write a few more Days in the Life of a Country ones to finish that up! Also, I REALLY wanna try a crossover... so yeah, I'm busy.**

**Also, writing this has gotten me obsessed with the relationship between Iggy and his brothers, so I'm gonna write something else that centers around them sometime... and also a NA brothers one, since I love their relationship... but don't be surprised if I end up not doing most of this! I tend to switch from topic to topic a LOT.**

**Random guest reader who wondered why I made the amount of time Alfred was gone a year, do you understand now? I had to make everyone confused to add drama! *laughs evilly***

**Oh... HAPPY NEWS! The England and Germany character songs came out today~! Everyone go look 'em up! Iggy has My Friend and Let's Enjoy Today, and Germany has Vorwarts March and Ich Liebe... (for anyone who has never read a Germany x Reader fic, that means "I love...").**

**Thank you so much if you read this all the way to the end! You are so good to me!**

**Hasta la Pasta~ (=_=)7 (SALUTE WITH YOUR RIGHT HAND ITALYYYY! XD)**


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